


Kibble

by Ren_Dreamt_The_Cosmos



Series: LazyTown Prompts! [1]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Food Issues, Gen, Humiliation, Prompt Fill, Starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22030063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ren_Dreamt_The_Cosmos/pseuds/Ren_Dreamt_The_Cosmos
Summary: Anon prompt: Can you please do an angst fic centered around food issues? I don't mind what fandom!You can't eat normal food like normal people until you are a functioning member of society.Villains aren't functioning members of society.A.K.A Íþróttaálfurinn is a horrible hero and he gives Robbie ISSUES.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: LazyTown Prompts! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585723
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	Kibble

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on FFN (They asked to remain anon).requested I do an angst fic centered around food issues. This is probably nothing near what they had in mind, but ah well.
> 
> Also, feel free to give me LazyTown prompts in the comments! I specialize in angst but I'm up to anything except for smut :) I really want to write more for this lovely fandom but I'm a little low on ideas.
> 
> _
> 
> *Trips and spills my childhood trauma on the floor*
> 
> Oops, lemme just-
> 
> *sweeps into fanfiction idea pile*
> 
> Oh, my bad!
> 
> ...ah well.
> 
> WARNING:// This fic may be triggering. Read at your own risk.

Robbie looked at his surroundings quickly, letting out a quick sigh of relief before clambering onto the bench, lifting himself onto his tip-toes as he stretched an arm towards the bright and delicious looking apple that hung from the tree above him.

He normally wouldn't eat fruits, - or anything healthy - but the Lazy Town villain was _desperate._

He hadn't had a bite to eat in two days, and his stomach felt like it was going to cave in on itself.

And it was all because of-

"Robbie."

Robbie violently flinched, tumbling down from the bench to land roughly on the dirt, apple falling to roll across the ground, coming to rest at a pair of shined and clean boots.

"Íþróttaálfurinn." Robbie slowly stood up from the ground, grey eyes drained on the legs of the hero across from him, fear preventing the villain from looking any higher.

"What did I tell you a few days ago, Robbie?"

"T-that, that villains didn't deserve to eat like normal people if they couldn't be normal functioning members of society."

"Indeed," The hero nodded, the crystal on his hat flopping around as he did. "But... it seems you were just about to eat an apple. Were you..." Íþróttaálfurinn narrowed his eyes, arms crossing to cover the 9 on his chest as he leaned closer to Robbie. "Not following my instructions?"

"B-but," Robbie's lip wobbled, a fat tear welling in his eyes as he looked up at the hero who was looming over him. "I- I'm so hungry! I haven't eaten in days! I need-"

Robbie squeaked as Íþróttaálfurinn picked up the apple from the ground, the previously beautiful fruit becoming squished and bruised as the hero clenched his long fingers around it.

"You-" Íþróttaálfurinn took a step forward, forcing Robbie to bend uncomfortably backwards as he cornered the younger man against the park bench. "Don't-" The hero tossed the crushed apple over his shoulder, before reaching forward and grabbing the villain by his collar. "Deserve-" Robbie's eyes were widened with fear, his makeup smudged and ruined by the tears that had made their way down his cheeks. "To eat!" Íþróttaálfurinn enforced the sentiment of his statement by dropping Robbie, letting the tall man crumple into a heap at his feet, the bruised and starving man too weak to move.

Íþróttaálfurinn scoffed, before reaching down and grabbing the back of the man's vest, Robbie letting out a soft groan of protest but nothing beyond that.

The hero yanked Robbie up and into his arms, before walking towards the billboard in the distance.

Robbie could only lay still in Íþróttaálfurinn's arms, fear paralyzing him - along with the effects of going without food the last few days and Lazy Town's hero's treatment of him.

As they reached the bunker, Íþróttaálfurinn set Robbie down against the hatch, before stepping back and tapping his foot in thought, eyebrows furrowing as he did so.

Robbie could only sit in silence and stare, mind racing as he thought about all the horrible things that Íþróttaálfurinn could be planning.

Íþróttaálfurinn abruptly opened the hatch and picked Robbie up, the villain letting out a gap as he dangled in the hero's grip.

"I'll be down soon. Be a dear and wait for me?" Íþróttaálfurinn smirked at Robbie, before shoving the villain down the pipe.

Robbie let out a shriek, before he was slamming into the orange chair at the bottom, his head spinning as a result of the sudden fall.

It was most likely only a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity until Íþróttaálfurinn returned.

The hero entered the lair, and Robbie immediately stiffened, body tensing as he tried to be prepared for whatever the hero was going to do.

"Come here."

Robbie slowly drew himself from the chair, slinking over to Íþróttaálfurinn, standing a few feet away.

"Sit."

Robbie sat, neatly tucking his long legs beneath him as he settled upon his knees.

What was Íþróttaálfurinn planning to do to him...?

"Good boy." A mocking chuckled bubbled forth from Íþróttaálfurinn's lips, the hero laughing at some hidden punchline that Robbie couldn't see.

_What..?_

A bowl clattered onto the ground. It was decorated on the edges with small bone drawings. The kind of bowl that you would use to feed a pet dog. It was filled with... something. It looked to be a cheap type of kibble, the small brown squares that had always looked to be very dry and not fun to eat for a dog in Robbie's opinion.

But why did Íþróttaálfurinn give this to him? Robbie didn't have a pet dog.

"I..." Robbie shook his head. "I don't understand."

"Eat it."

"What?" Robbie looked up, eyes filling with confusion. "But it's.."

"Oh, I see." Íþróttaálfurinn stood up, taking the food bowl with him. "It really is so rude to refuse a gift Robbie. But I suppose, if you insist..." The hero turned, beginning to make his way to the exit of the lair.

"No!" Robbie rose up and threw out a hand towards the retreating back of Íþróttaálfurinn. The villain hated how his voice had sounded, weak and pitiful. He didn't want to eat dog food. He wanted to eat normal food again. But he was _so_ hungry.

"Oh?" Íþróttaálfurinn turned, a cruel smirk in place upon his face. "Changed your mind?"

"Yes! I- please." Robbie settled back on his knees, voice cracking slightly as he begged for the food. "I'll eat it. I'll eat anything."

"Well." Íþróttaálfurinn chuckled, placing the bowl on the floor, kicking it over to Robbie.

Robbie felt his cheeks heat as he knelt there on the floor, hunched over the small food bowl, but he couldn't being himself to care. He had been so, _so_ hungry.

The dry, salty kibbles of dog food weren't tasty, but Robbie was practically stuffing them down his throat, picking up handful after handful, all the while aware of Íþróttaálfurinn's presence in the corner of the lair. Aware of the hero's ability to take away the food.

"Disgusting."

Robbie paused as Íþróttaálfurinn sighed, the hero strolling to stand next to the villain and his bowl.

"It's like you're a pig. Although... I suppose it would be fitting, considering how you're eating on the floor out of an animal bowl." In one second Robbie was on the floor, huddled protectively over his food, the next he was pressed against the wall, collar bunched up in Íþróttaálfurinn's grasp. "And that's how it is going to stay. You are going to stay in this disgusting little hole you call a lair, and you will wait for me to decide whether or not you deserve food. You don't deserve to eat normal food like normal people, and you should be grateful that I'm letting you eat this."

Robbie stared silently, breaths coming in short and quick gasps.

"Understand?!" Íþróttaálfurinn shook him, spittle flying from the enraged hero's mouth.

Robbie nodded frantically.

Íþróttaálfurinn dropped him with a disgusted scoff, before turning and stalking out of the lair.

He took the bowl on the way out.

Robbie let out a distressed whine and quickly paced the room, looking for any kibbles that may have fallen onto the floor and were missed by Íþróttaálfurinn.

He found one.

As Robbie slowly nibbled at the tiny dry kibble, trying to make it last, he found a tear streaking down his face.

A tear turned to two, and two into twenty.

A few minutes later, Robbie was rocking back and forth, distressed wails emitting from the villain.

He was broken.

Robbie internally groaned as Sportacus cartwheeled over to him, neatly landing with a disapproving glare leveled at the large cake currently held in the villain's hands.

"Robbie do you _ever_ eat anything other then cake?" A soft tone of concern was evident in the hero's tone.

"Of course I do!" Robbie scoffed, turning away slightly as he tucked the cake closer to his chest. "What's it to you?"

"Well, I never see you at the store except when you're buying cake supplies?" Sportacus tilted his head, before jumping forward into a handstand, now looking up - down? - at Robbie. "What other food do you eat? It can't be healthy to live on just cake and sweets."

Robbie's face whitened, his knuckles clenching.

The villain mumbled something, his stormy eyes now firmly locked on the ground to the left of Sportacus's ear.

"What?" Sportacus flipped back onto his feet gracefully. "I didn't catch that last bit."

"I don't get..." Robbie paused, before spewing out the rest of his words. It's like a bandaid, do it quickly and it'll be mostly painless. "I don't get to eat _real_ food."

"What do you..?"

"I don't get to eat real food like a normal person unless I'm a functioning member of society." Robbie shrugged nonchalantly, oblivious to Sportacus's growing look of horror and shock.

"Who told you that?" Sportacus sputtered, concern and bewilderment taking a spot upon his features. "Why do you-?"

"Number 9 said that." Robbie dipped his head, a knee coming up to rest against his chest. "He didn't like me much. But I can't eat normal food, he might come back, he always managed to find out when I would eat something other than what he allowed back then. I wouldn't want to risk that."

"Number 9... Íþróttaálfurinn." Sportacus's features tightened, his smile becoming strained as he looked at Robbie. "Here, I'll, uh. I'll be right back. I need to send a letter. I'll-" Sportacus awkwardly patted the villain on the shoulder, his best attempt at comfort in the current moment. "I'll tell the kids to be quite. I have some... business to do."

Sportacus then ran off, which weirded Robbie out. Seeing the hero actually run instead of contorting into weird flips and cartwheels for once was... unusual.

Robbie pondered about what the hero was off to do, but shrugged it off and decided to return to his cake.

"Must be hero things."

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck. Sorry Robbie.
> 
> But hey as least it wasn't wet dog food! Dry kibbles are tolerable because they literally just taste like a stale unseasoned crouton.
> 
> Anyways! Please give me some prompts!! I prefer Robbie centric and angst, but I'll consider everything! :)


End file.
